"I'm fine," she says with a halfhearted grin.
"I'm fine," she says again, waving away a helpful hand.
"I'm fine," she says to herself, several minutes later.
"I'm fine," she whispers, wiping her face.
She's not fine.

"I'm fine," she says moments after the cry leaves her lips.
"I'm fine," she says to herself, sinking to the floor.
"I'm fine," she tells herself, shaking in a ball.
"I'm fine," she repeats, picking up the razorblade.
She's not fine.

"I'm fine," she says to her concerned family.
"I'm fine," she insists as those who love her worry.
"I'm fine," she says to anyone who listens.
"I'm fine," she lies as she slices her wrists.
She's not fine.

"I'm fine," she cries, sobbing on the bathroom floor.
"I'm fine," she wails, but only in a whisper.
"I'm fine," she mutters, watching the blood leave her wrist.
"I'm fine," she practices, stepping from the room.
She's not fine.

"I'm fine," she assures the world outside.

Hello.
I’m toxic.
you probably don’t want to know me
i hurt everyone I love.

Hello.
I have an eating disorder.
I skip meals.
I don’t love myself.

Hello.
I can’t let people in.
I’m scared of people knowing me.
So i hide away.

Hello.
I’m unconfident.
I need constant assurance.
Am I bothering you?

Hello.
I’m sad most of the time.
I’m not good at being happy.
Sorry I’m always down.

Hello.
How are you?

The playground is getting dark
It's almost time to go
But finally I smile and lean my head back
And then I go and swing some more

I dangle from my neck
Swinging to and fro
Isn't this playground lovely?
I laugh and swing myself some more

I tighten the rope a little
There's still a short while to go
But better safe than happy
So off the shaky seat I go
Swinging to and fro

I hang from my rope
There's nothing left at all
There's a smile on my face
As you watch me
Swinging to and fro

My Senior English Research Paper Proposal:
I propose to talk about how society and school can affect the youth of America.
I propose to talk about how much we all don't want to talk about this.
How depression becomes common in teenagers and youth isn’t just an emotional problem- it’s societal one.
How we’re told to bury emotions, not to cry but to move on and play the game. But we only get so long before we realize it doesn’t mean anything.
Useless grades for a useless world.
Words that having no meaning besides the ones that we put behind them.
How we teach kids to be quick to laugh at the expense of others and take nothing serious because nothing matters- and how we do that without hesitation because everything matters.
How we bury everything so deep.
How that begins to hurt and overflow.
How we tell them it's all in their heads.
How they’ll outgrow it.
How we push kids to be older than they are.
How kids are shown limited paths in life when the world itself is limitless. It gives zero ***** about how we live.
How kids out of fear and loneliness turn on each other.
How we are all so desperately looking for a connection in this world but draw closer in because people are dangerous and loneliness is safe.
How we are all selfish and eventually lose the ones we love.
How love is a concept and construct warped so far that we can’t perceive it any more yet we all desparetly are told to seek it out.
How loneliness can ****.
How the depression and suicide rates of kids sky rocket in high school because puberty hits and chemicals go wild and you wake up and see that you don’t have anyone who cares about you for you,
how your heroes are nothing more than **** ups like you,
and how there is no point to anything but work and death.
How the point was supposed to be communication and other people, but we washed that out of system.
Stay quiet in class rooms. No passing notes. Ignore your neighbor. Be afraid of everyone on the buses. Loners look cooler. No one really cares about you.
And how that can **** someone, those three simple words:
“No one cares.”
And how we laugh about things that aren't funny, how apathetic we become and how we try to pretend we’re okay with that because if we don’t we’ll look weak.
How we as a society have turned kindness and caring into weakness.
How ****** up we all are.
Let's talk about that.

I've got a secret
a *****, little secret,

And secrets stuck inside are bound to shred you to bits
so you've got to find someone to tell, somehow, quick,

You're a puppet writhing on its string
waving your stubby, limp arms for attention,

You dance around yourself
and find pretty ways to phrase what you mean
"i'm not that okay right now" you finally say,

And then you're locked into a bizarre duet
filled with classical music, and dainty, lovely steps
of "why didn't you tell me?" and "i wish i could help,"

But it seems you're not really cut out for this dance
you're too afraid of stepping on toes and causing them pain
you nervously try to laugh off the mistakes,

"You looked like you were walking straight into that lake"
go ahead, try laughing that away,

You blush, you look down
hang holding your breath from your strings
because *someone knows your secret
and even though they won't mean to
they might hint at it enough to give it away,

Because that's what you did, right?
you could never just break down to the beat of your own drum
and tell them the truth
you could never just say
I've got a secret,

I've thought about killing myself before

No, you always wind up giving out a pretty, little
*I don't think I'm okay.